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Sometimes the charade of being a troubled Capitol citizen got to be a bit much. Oh, he was fitting in quite nicely. Parties, lovers, engagements. And Effie, always Effie, by his side, showing him off, preening and petting and always keeping him from making any awful mistakes.

But today he'd been singing a little song he'd heard while in the shower and he realized, quite suddenly, that he had forgotten his voice. He'd adopted the Capitol accent and now...the way he'd spoken in London was gone. He tried and tried to find it- landing on a Welsh accent, a Manchester, Scouse, even a proper BBC English. But none of those were his voice.

So today John sat, towel round is waist and hair drying naturally into uncontrollable waves, trying and trying to find the vowels that sounded right. And he just kept coming back to the Capitol.

Effie had made certain he'd learned the ways of Panem, and had learned quickly. He knew ettiquette and customs, knew what he would see and to not be shcked by it. He had the accent down, that wasn't a problem. Mostly she had coached him again and again on his story. He'd lost all his funds on the games and had turned to working in a shop to pay his mounting bills. He side hustled a bit with gambling, seemed he had a bit of a problem with gambling, and he was always right on the edge of making his comeback to society. And then he'd met Effie and his life turned for the better. She had taken him in like a project...or better yet, like a pet. And she'd dressed him and given him an allowance and he was happier than he'd ever been.

Drugs, drink, fine clothes...it was all so believable because, to be quite fair, here he was her pet. He looked to her for everything. Still, he'd learned to keep to his story. He needed to to keep them both safe.

After a couple weeks in Effie's flat, having clothes brought in from Cinna and being trimmed and groomed by a flamboyant stylist named Baltus, John felt ready to try himself out.

They'd gone to an early dinner at one of Effie's favorite restaurants. They'd dined on fine wine and exquisite delicacies John had hardly ever dreamed of. Roast quail, truffles and spring onions, a reduction f root vegetables with a bright fresh herb garnish. And dessert of some confection of chocolate and berries and cream.

It honestly wasn't hard to stick to his story because it was simply so close to the truth.

He was smiling at Effie, making light conversation about a show he had seen with people commenting on the newest tech coming out of District 2 when a few people approached the table.

"Effie!" and woman gushed. "It's been ages since we've seen you."

He'd gotten her into bed. Taken off her wig. Cleaned off her make up with remover and dozens of little cotton pads. He'd stripped her out of her dress and tucked her in and the entire time she was dead to the world. Once Effie was settled John goes out to the main room and tries to come down. He fidgets and moves too much, laying down and getting up and flailing his arms. But eventually he comes down and as the buzz fades he is ready to take something to take the edge off. He pops a few narcotics and they get him to a place where he can relax. He lays on the sofa and falls asleep in front of the telly.

He's up in the morning to Princess demanding to be fed. She walks on his head and purrs and rubs and so John gets up and sorts out her food, gives her fresh water, then sees to his own needs. Toilet, pills, tea, and a bite to eat. It's easier to sit with the opiates dulling his senses. He thinks to let Effie sleep. But after an hour he goes in to check. She's curled up on herself, sleeping hard. Hard, but alive. And he leaves her. A few hours later he checks again. Still asleep. He begins to worry, thinking about what they've done last night. How she's not alright.

He wonders what he can do. Likely nothing.

John's certain they aren't going to stop all this until something awful happens...

One of the places they frequented was Obsidian, a sex club that catered to those who enjoyed a bit of bondage and pain. Effie had a remarkable capacity for pain, John had found, and she was always so wet when they played that way. That was what he craved tonight, having snorted a bump and then smoked a bit to get him wired. He was tired of the sedate haze he wandered around in. He wanted to feel alive.

He waited for Effie to come home so he could tell her his plan to go there. He wanted to have her weak and ready for him. He could barely contain himself, he felt like he might come out of his skin. And so he cleaned. He cleaned most of the flat as he waited for her to come home so they could go. Go out. Go tot he club and he could do all the awful things he wanted to...and he knew she would say yes.

(from here)

"We still have wine. And champagne, too," he says. He's been saving it for when he can bring the ring home to her to ask her to marry him again. He's sure she thinks he's forgotten that night, but though he had been high as hell, he remembered. He has simply decided he's not going to ask her again until he can do it properly.

He takes her hand to leave the dance floor and at the bar he closes out the meager tab. Then they're on their way, out into the night hand in hand. There's still a chill in the air but spring is clearly on it's way.

"Do you feel safe cutting through the park with me?" he asks then, always so aware of what might make her panic. He's gentle with her for that He's always on watch for that.

The days since Christmas had blurred together. The murder, the hospital, Christmas and new years and days and nights and sleeping when they felt like it. John was on medical leave from the library, awaiting clearance from his doctor before going back. Effie's show was on hiatus while her face healed. The pair of them spent their time in various states of stupor, drugged numb so they didn't have to deal with the reality of what had happened.

The pills had run out and John needed to go to the pharmacy to get more, but in the meantime he was sober enough to think clearly and the thought he had was that they needed to address this. He waited for Effie to wake and when she did he took her by the hand and sat her on the sofa.

"Effie, we need to talk. We can't keep hiding. We can't keep on like this. I know you're scared. But the hurts are healing and we've got to talk about Andy. About killing him. We have to sober up and move on," he said, hoping she was sober enough to understand.

After the night and most of a morning spent in the hospital, John and Effie made it home. Princess was on Effie instantly, purring and chatting with her. John goes to make tea to soothe frayed nerves, and when it had brewed he also fetches Effie's hair brush. Not her wig brush, he'd made that mistake only once. Then he turns on the telly to a mindless cooking show and gently begins to untangle her locks. He knows she's well doped. He thinks the repetative motion might soothe her.

"When you've drunk your tea we'll go to bed. I'll deal with the police. You need your rest," he says.

Continued from HERE

"I'm sure you will," he smiles, settling in close to her. He slides cold fingers up her thigh, under the hem of her skirt, and draws icy lines on her leg above her hosiery.

He loves howfeminine she is. Always in dresses. Always with hair and make up. He feels truly privileged to see her at night with her hair bound up in the kerchief and her make up all removed. She's a mystery to him with her regimens of skin care. Creams and lotions and potions of colour that make her eyes pop and her lips sparkle. She's a marvel. Beauty personified.

At her flat he leads the way in and checks the locks- more of them now than before the letters and pictures started coming- and he pets Princess. John puts the food in the refrigerator while Effie feeds her meowing darling and then he smooths his beard and takes hold of her from behind. He presses a whiskery kiss to the back of her neck, cold fingers holding her arms.

"I love how calm you are at home," he says. "You're so jumpy out and about. It's him, isn't it? You need to come round, Effie, and let me call the police."

John had met the fellow at the restaurant where he'd gone to pick up dinner. Casual conversation turned into flirtation and even after the mention of his girlfriend the flirtation grew. Since Robert was getting take away for one John invites him back to the flat to have dinner with he and Effie.

On the walk home the conversation turned much more explicit and Robert's flirtation became chat up and then became outright. John blushed but he agreed to all that the man said and he knew Effie would agree, too.

In they walked with bags of Chinese and John called to Effie and made the introductions.

"You know, Chinese is just as good cold," he says and RObert nods in agreement, puts his bag down, and kisses John as much for his pleasure as for Effie's entertainment.

John tended to get the mail at home and had recentl been concerned with how much personally addressed mail Effie was getting. There were card envelopes and long white envelopes and today there was a large yellow envelope that was stamped PHOTOS and he could feel a cardboard backer in it to keep it rigid. She'd not said anything about the mail to him, was as blithe and lovely as ever, though he thought he saw her bite her lips and fingers in worry and he found it odd she threw the things in the garbage so quickly.

There wasn't time tonight to discuss the contents of the photo envelope. A ssoon as Effie got home from the studio she had to change and then they were off to dinner. John had made reservations at Lis d'Or, having carefully saved to treat Effie to a fine and decadant meal. Oysters, champagne, the chef's own menu du jour...he'd been looking forward to this all week.

They were seated with chilled champagne and immediately served caviar with creme fraische on toast points to whet their appetites.

"Effie, darling, are you alright? You seem on edge..." he said gently.

Peeta had vanished and Effie had lost her bloody mind. Off the rails. They put the show on hiatus and he'd caught her home once changing her clothes and she'd been so high he wasn't even sure she recognized him. As painful as this was, John is certain he can't do anything. No one will step in and it's not as if she'll listen. He can only hope she comes round before she's a tragic death on the front page of the Darrow Daily, accidental drink and drug death...

He's come today as he comes every day to take care of Princess. He feeds her and plays with her and pets her. And yes, he wanders the flat and fusses with her pillows and dresses and wigs.

He misses her so much. So terribly much.

It's lunchtime and John takes his sandwich and pasta salad and can of cola to the bench he always sits at in the nearby park to watch the water, the birds, and the people. He nibbles a bit at the cucumber and sprouts and sun dried tomato, thinking that it might be a bit better with avocado but his had gone off so it was a sadly lacking sandwich. He sits it down in its waxed paper and wipes his mouth preparing to open his salad when some birds began to gether.

"Oh dear," he says. "I know you're up to no good. Shoo. GO on now. I want none of this today..."

The days were getting longer and warmer, though the nights were still crisp. He'd decided to take Effie to the cinema to see the new film that was playing. He wasn't sure what it was other than something that seemed like it had a lot of dialogue and a coule rather handsome men. He dressed in a shirt and jumper to keep off the night's bite.

Two tickets and soon enough they were in the theater. Early- the lights were still on. So John took the opportunity to look at her. Really look at her.

"You are so beautiful," he said, a smitten smile on his lips.

It had not gone without notice that Effie was not doing well. Chameleon Playground was on hiatus which gave her far too much time to dwell on the loss of Finnick and Katniss. She was drinking, barely eating, and the drugs...she was always on something. John couldn't be with her all the time- he had his job at the library, after all- and when he was with her he often couldn't indulge to the same degree. He did have sense enough to be responsible.

And so he was stone sober when he came to her flat after work with a lovely selection of sushi to enjoy (though he knew he'd be lucky if she ate two bites). He had his key and walked in only to find Princess yowling madly. He spied Effie on the sofa, draped and only half dressed. A hlaf a glass of wine sat on the table.

"Effie, darling?" he asked, dropping the take away bag and rushing to her side. She was not a healthy colour at all. "Effie?" he said, giving her a shake.

Kagura mountain lodge was huge and offered many dark corners and empty hallways, especially on the upper floor. John had endured the party for as long as he could stand, watching Effie as she made her rounds through the crowd. She was so beautiful and the way she interacted with people was so effortless. John was truly jealous of her in that way.

But then the clock struck twelve and she was at his side, kissing him into the new year. Blood pounded in his ears and his groin and before John knew what he was doing he'd taken hold of her wrist and was dragging her off. Away from the crowd. Down a hallway, kissing her and touching her. Shoving her against the wall to ruck up her skirt and feel the bare flesh of her thigh above her stockings on the landing of the stairs leading downward.

"Effie," he gasped into her mouth. The single soft word echoed in the empty stairwell.

It was getting worse, not better. John was nervous during the day and he had changed his routine so that he never went past that alley, never went to anywhere threatening. He'd found ways around all the obstacles, going well out of hi way to keep himself 'safe'. But he thought of Lindsey and the man's words, how he'd learned that even the most friendly looking people could be monsters. John lost his trust for the world bit by bit.

But at night- at night things had progressed in a different way. No longer did he dream of being passively disemboweled. No, now he was fighting. Now he was going out in his dreams seeking out danger and fighting head on. He flailed in his sleep, jerking and twitching and it only grew more violent with every passing night.

He was't safe from himself and Effie even less so. Tonight he'd fought valiantly in his sleep, but there was a pain in his arm that was bad enough to rouse him. He blinked and looked and surely enough he had finally loosed his fury on the woman he loved and she lay bleeding from a stray elbow.

"Oh my god," he said, immediately springing to care for her.

6 October

They'd patched him up at the hospital and seen to a bit of blood but there was no real need to keep him so they'd sent him off with a sack of bandages and a bottle of narcotics. He was high from a shot when he'd called Effie who had come right away. Oh, she was all a-flutter, fussing over him and going on, but he was a bit too high to follow along. It was all right, he assured her. It wasn't even until they were secure in his flat and he was putting on pyjamas that the truth had come out. That there had been a man with a knife who had robbed him. That a kindly soul had helped. That he had bled a rather copious amount. And that he was sure it hurt, he just didn't care.

"Will you have a lie down with me?" he asked, weary of all of it. He caught her hands and pulled her toward the bedroom. "I don't want to muss your wig but I am truly tired, Effie darling."

John had fallen asleep early and was dead to the world when the banging began. A few raps at first, then some real banging. John's roused from his sleep and looks around the darkened room and he listens. He's not surewho was making such a fuss at this hour. What hour, he thinks and looks. Three o'clock in the bloody morning. Morning, it's called, and yet it's pitch dark outside.

The banging only intensifies and he goes from being annoyed to being moderately afraid. What if someone's hurt? What if they need help? That's what he's thinking as he stumbles from his bedroom to the front door, flipping on a light as he goes.

Once he's at the door he hesitates a moment even in the face of rap-rap-bang-bang-rap-rap-pound. He hesitates then and he peeks out the hole in the door. Handy thing, that. When he sees who it is he immediately opens the door.

"Effie, my god...are you all right? Come in. Come in, oh...you're crying. Oh, god...come in..."

John wakes up and nothing seems to be amiss. Not until he is eating breakfast and he reaches for his cup and it slides across the table to meet his hand. That was the first indication of something being off.

Once he gets to work it becomes clear this is an odd occurrance and he's not alone in it. Others can do things they've never been able to do before as well. John keeps his own affliction quiet, but he tests his limits and finds he's rather good at moving things with his mind.

It's an open mic night at the bar he's seen Lindsey sing at and he goes, as he goes every week. Sometimes it's for nothing, his friend isn't there, and yet he continues to go just in case.

He's had a beer and is sitting at the bar, watching a bloke be a bastard to a woman who clearly doesn't want his attention. And so John concentrates on the man's glass and when the time is right there's suddenly beer in his crotch and he's stammering and dashing away to the bathroom to clean up.

John catches the woman's eye and smiles at her. He's been doing little good deeds all week with this power of his. But the door of the bar opens and he looks to it to see if Lindsey's come to sing.

State of Me: Since my last sotp I got a new job. I literally could not handle my old boss anymore so when I got this opportunity I took it. I'm the new job developer for a nonprofit here is Spokane which works with people with develomental disabilities of all severities, from Down's to Autism to other stuffs. I manage the vending machine business and landscaping business, two things we have in-house that are used as group supported employment for our clients so they're employed and paid but not out on their own. I haven't worked there for very long so *really* my job is reading files and laws, doing data entry, and making calls, as well as going out with the work crews to see what the job sites are like and what the jobs entail. I love it.

The other thing that's new is it's clear surgery on my back is unavoidable and it'll be sooner rather than later. I think it'll be in September. I'd really like to put it off til February if that's even a possibility because then I'll have my tax return to live off of. I'm really scared of this surgery because it's super invasive and at the end of it I'll have 6 screws and some rods in my spine. Scary.

DARROW

Eric Preston from Mysterious Skin
I fell down on his EP with the salon. I still have the tab (which is a miracle and you should praise me for that small victory) and I will be tagging it back. THe problem is I have so many tags to do in it that I do all my other much easier tags through the evening and by the end of the night I've screwed myself over and I think "Oh, tomorrow" and I've been doing that for a week now. I suck.

But what has Eric been doing? Oh, you know, hair academy, working as a barists, going through genetic testing and treatments. Oh, and Todd. LOL His relationship with Todd is super sweet and super hot. They're both so gawky and so stupidly attracted to one another. Todd reminds him of Brian a lot and while I never shipped them in canon I really believe their friendship is majorly important. Preston is defined by his friendships with Neil and Brian. He's the "normal" foil against which their dysfunction gleams. But Todd...ugh, he just really loves being with Todd. He feels young and wild, silly and irresponsible, and he feels desirable which is something that's pretty important to him. I don't see Eric having a lot of acceptance of who he was as an individual in Modesto or Hutchinson. I'm sure he got laid, but no one really got him until Brian (Sorry Neil, he just orbited you). I think Todd is really going to be the catalyst for getting him to a place where I can wrestle some character growth out of him.

Powers Plot: Only dealing with others like Todd and Neil, though I'm thinking this will be a GREAT time to reveal some success in the the KIRIN treatments and then he and the people he cares about can have awkward conversations?

John from Cock
John is so loud. SO loud. He's super easy to tag around, I've found. I need to think up some plot for him. Right now he's just working at the library and "seeing" Effie Trinket (for a given value of seeing, which has less to do with his eyes and more to do with his penis because they don't really talk much LOL) He needs to thread with Lindsey more, and he just generally needs to thread with everyone. He's settling in remarkably well and I want to thank everyone for all the wonderful threads in his debut (which I put to bed). I don't have much more to say about him because this month has flown by and suddenly here it is the end and I didn't do nearly as much as I wanted to with him. No regrets, here's looking forward to next month.

Powers Plot: John will be getting Lindsey's super swanky metaphysical powers what with the telekinesis and the super strength and vampire ninja skills (seriously Joss, wtf...I never understood why the vamps in BTVS/AtS fought so well. Must be ninja school for the demons in them?) I'm sure he'll have a thread with Linds but I'm going to tag him around, playing with his power and being a general nuisance.

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We're Fundamentally Different People

John

Effie

A Night Out

Effie

Effie

Effie

Effie January 4th

Effie

Effie

Effie and NPC

Effie

Effie

Mindy

Effie

Effie

Effie NYE

Effie

Effie

Effie

Lindsey - Powers Plot

SOTP

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February 2019

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